Risking the Detective (The Bluestocking Scandals Book 6) Page 9

  As conversation continued around the table, he and Alice shared a look, silently deciding who should go after Madeline. Drake was shocked by just how desperately he wanted it to be him. As Benjamin had been sharing the news of Maxfeld’s escape with her, he had wanted nothing more than to reach his arms out and pull her in toward him, to tell her that everything was going to be all right — that he was there and would make sure that no harm would come to her.

  But he couldn’t. That wasn’t his place. He was a detective on a case involving her business. If he was able to find Maxfeld, he would most certainly detain him and make sure he would never escape Newgate again, but as for comforting Madeline—

  Before he or Alice could make any decision however, Bennett was standing and following Madeline out the door and down the hall. Drake watched him go with narrowed eyes, which was ridiculous. This man was Madeline’s family, and of course he should be there for her.

  Alice shrugged at him with a small lift of her shoulders that told him it wasn’t what she had wanted either, but there really wasn’t anything either of them could do.

  Drake sighed as the second course was placed in front of him. Any other time, the feast that was spread out before him on the elaborately decorated table would have been welcomed. Alice certainly had a flair for extravagance, but these people around the table made him feel far more comfortable than any who would typically accompany this involved meal.

  “Everything all right?” Luxington asked from beside him, as though sensing the despair that had suddenly struck him, and Drake nodded and came back to himself.

  “Yes, of course,” Drake said, hoping this time he had done a more admirable job of masking his emotions. “I’m troubled about Maxfeld, but I do think he will leave Miss Castleton be. At least, I should hope he would. He has done enough.”

  Benjamin nodded slowly in agreement, but his brow was furrowed.

  “Do you think he will, though? The truth is, we do not know much about him. He is not the man he presented himself to be, but an altogether different one. He could be out for revenge. I’m a bit worried myself, as he and Chesterpeak schemed so masterfully that it was difficult to see the truth. I’ll certainly be keeping a close eye on Alice, that is for sure.”

  Drake moved some of the food around on his plate.

  “I understand what you are saying. I’ll speak to the other detectives. Perhaps there is more we can do to help keep Miss Castleton safe as well.”

  “Very good,” Benjamin said. “Alice will be happy to hear it.”

  Drake nodded. He had an idea of just how he could ensure Madeline’s safety. He would like to say that idea included him being there for her at all moments of the day, but he didn’t have any particularly inspired ideas for devising a reason to remain close to her for that long a period of time. He would do his best — and he did know someone who could and not be questioned. He just had to convince her to agree to it.

  Madeline and Bennett returned to the room while the course was being cleared away. Drake wasn’t pleased with the fact that her face had seemingly lost all color, her expression reminding him of what she had looked like when he had first met her, after Maxfeld had nearly killed her. The protector in him wanted to wrap her up tightly in his arms, holding her so close that no harm could ever come to her.

  When she retook her seat beside him, he couldn’t help himself. Beneath the table, he reached over, wrapping his fingers around one of the hands that was balled tightly into a fist on her lap. She had removed her gloves for dinner, and her fingers were so icy cold that it nearly chilled him through just holding them. He squeezed her hand, as though he could impart reassurance and confidence that they would get through this just from his touch.

  At first, she seemed to resist, her hands remaining in their fists, until suddenly she released them, her unyielding grip now encompassing his own hand, squeezing with a strength that he didn’t know she had within her.

  Drake held on tightly, willing to provide whatever she needed — in that moment, and for the foreseeable future. For the truth was, he had no desire to ever let go.

  “I feel so foolish.”

  Madeline looked up at the understanding faces that surrounded her. The ladies had retired to the drawing room following dinner. They wouldn’t remain alone long; the men said they would join them after one more drink.

  “Why would you feel foolish?” Alice demanded.

  “I’ve allowed him to affect me so greatly again. He escaped prison, yes, but what could he want to do with me anymore? I was a pawn in his game. I meant nothing besides a payout for him. He couldn’t want anything to do with me again. Why would I even consider it?”

  Her breaths were still shallow, uneven, but she had managed to gain enough control over her emotions that no one else was aware of her agitation.

  “I think you are right,” Alice agreed. “At least, I hope you are. But it would be wise to be careful until they find him again.”

  Madeline nodded. She wished she could have been stronger, could have remained there in the room with the rest of them and not run off like a child afraid of the dark. Bennett had been lovely and said all the right things when he had come after her, finding her in the parlor at the front of the house, but he had not been particularly reassuring — especially when he told her that he would keep her safe. Bennett was an agreeable sort, but he was not the man she would trust with her life.

  Not like Drake.

  One thing she could not share with the ladies was how reassuring his grip on her hand had been. His strength had flowed through her, filling her, comforting her. But to speak the words aloud would be to put too much of her own hope into them. For, despite their kiss, she refused to allow anyone in close again.

  No matter how handsome or considerate he might be.

  “Alice?” Benjamin was at the door. “We are going to play billiards, if that’s all right?”

  Alice nodded, but then looked around at the rest of them. “Shall we join in, ladies?”

  Most men would likely have been surprised at the sentiment — but not Benjamin Luxington. He had been married to Alice for long enough to never be shocked at anything she might propose.

  “Have you played before?” Rose asked Madeline as they followed Alice to the billiards room at the back of the house.

  “Once or twice, when Alice thought it would be a bit of fun,” Madeline said. “But I certainly don’t expect to be anything near to proficient.”

  Rose nodded, biting her lip, and Madeline considered what this must all be like for her. The woman had barely spent any time away from Lyme, as far as Alice had told her, and here she was in a house full of strangers playing billiards of all things.

  “We don’t have to play,” Madeline said, trying to provide her a way out. “I’m not entirely interested myself.”

  Rose drew her frame up to her full height, as though instilling confidence in herself. “I’m here,” she said with a shrug and a small smile. “Might as well give it a go!”

  Madeline nodded, wishing she could possess the same level of confidence as this woman, but unsure of just how to go about accomplishing that.

  When they entered the room, however, instead of taking a seat near the wall as she would typically have done, Madeline surprised them all by taking a cue, agreeing to play.

  Drake looked over at her, his eyes, typically hooded to shield his expression, widened somewhat, although she thought — or maybe she just hoped — that there was a bit of admiration in them.

  “We have even numbers,” Alice said, stepping up and commanding the room, as she always did so well. “What do you say we pair up and have a bit of a game?”

  She went around the room and told them who their match was — all husbands and wives, until she got to Rose. “Rose, you shall pair Mr. Castleton, and Madeline, you and Drake can be together.”

  Madeline nearly rolled her eyes at the twinkle within Alice’s gaze, but Alice simply grinned at her impishly before joining her husb
and.

  Their hosts first played Lord and Lady Exner, who they beat handily, before they had some trouble against Mr. and Mrs. Thompkins. Rose and Bennett were abysmal, although Bennett had much to say about the unfairness of the situation, since Alice and Benjamin obviously made full use of their billiards table.

  “We do practice rather often,” Alice said without a bit of shame. “Now, Madeline, Drake, let’s see what you have.”

  Drake and Benjamin hit their cue balls, which traveled the length of the table, bounced off the cushion, and returned toward them. When they came to a stop, Drake’s cue ball rested nearest the baulk cushion at the other end. He then chose to break, and quickly scored ten points before it was Alice’s turn.

  “Have you much experience?” Madeline asked him, but he shook his head. “Ah, so you are one of those men who is good at basically anything you attempt?” she asked with a rueful chuckle, but when he looked over to her, his expression was not one of mirth. Instead, Madeline was shocked to see that his stare had turned dark, with something else playing within his eyes and around the corners of his mouth.

  “I am good at nearly everything I try, as long as I put some effort into it.”

  Madeline became very aware that he was no longer speaking of billiards. Her mouth turned dry and she swallowed hard as her insides seemed to melt into liquid.

  It was not as though she was some innocent woman — not anymore — but while the man she had known as Stephen, her husband, had been fun and amorous at first, he had never made her feel like this. When Madeline was close to Drake, when he kissed her, when he looked at her like he was right now, he created a longing the likes of which she had never before experienced.

  And she wasn’t sure whether or not she liked it.

  She licked her lips and took a deep breath, as, after Alice sank the red ball, resulting in three points, she missed scoring, and it was Madeline’s turn.

  She missed. Missed completely.

  “Damn it,” she cursed, surprising even herself, and most especially Drake, who chuckled in her ear.

  “Try again,” Alice encouraged from across the table.

  “No, it’s fine,” Madeline said, waving her hand, not wanting to suffer the embarrassment twice over. But with a little encouragement from around the table, she finally forced herself to step up once more.

  “Here,” Drake said, coming up behind her. “I’ll help this time.”

  He was close, although not close enough to be completely improper. His arms came around her, one on each side, and he slid one warm hand down the cue to cover hers, bare from when she had removed the gloves as she began to play. Why was he always so hot and fiery?

  “Now,” he murmured, his mouth dangerously close to her ear, “back and forward, just like that.”

  She allowed him to guide the pool cue, and then when she struck the white ball and it went flying toward one of the red ones, sending it deep into a pocket, she cried out in elation.

  She turned around to find Drake grinning down at her, and then he waved to the table.

  “Your turn,” he said. “Try again — on your own this time.”

  She couldn’t deny that she missed the feeling of his arms around her, but she also took a deep breath to fill herself with confidence as she stepped up to the table. This time, she struck the white ball again, and while it simply glanced off another ball, it was still, to her, a victory.

  She stepped back, hiding the small, proud smile that threatened to emerge, before Benjamin took his turn. He made one small mistake, and soon Drake was up again. The four of them continued, with Drake scoring most of their points, until they were tied, each only three away from three hundred.

  And it was Madeline’s turn.

  “It’s up to you,” Drake said, when she turned to look at him imploringly for help. “You’ve got this.”

  She really didn’t think she did, but there was nothing left to do but try.

  She stepped up, closed one eye, and took aim.

  And sank the red ball.

  She stood there in shock for a moment, staring after it, then looking up to Drake.

  “I did it,” she said somewhat softly. “My goodness!”

  “You did,” he said, his lips beginning to curl.

  Madeline just about jumped up and threw herself into his arms in celebration, but she held herself back at the last moment, remembering where they were. In a room full of people, one of them being her cousin, who she was sure would not approve and would most assuredly report back to her father.

  Bennett began to clap, and her cheeks flushed when she saw that she was the center of attention once more — not somewhere she enjoyed finding herself.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, before slinking back into the shadows. When another game began, this time with the men only, she decided that she needed a bit of air — and she slipped out the door, unnoticed.

  Chapter 12

  Drake could tell that Madeline thought she had succeeded in surreptitiously leaving the room, but there was a truth that he was going to have to face — he would always notice her.

  Not anymore.

  When she had won the game for them, he had seen the elation on her face, knew how much it meant to her to have achieved what she had deemed impossible. And he was happy he had been the one to help her along.

  It was inconsequential — a stupid billiards game — and yet, it contained more meaning than he wanted to admit.

  He set his cue down and followed her out the door, catching a glimpse of her pink skirt retreating down the corridor before she entered the drawing room. He followed as she pushed through the sash window doors, stepping out into the small garden that backed the house, across the street from the mews.

  She slipped her gloves back on as she took a seat on a bench, facing the dark alley beyond. There was little light out here, but the moon streamed down and the stars beyond her blanketed the sky and provided a backdrop that made her appear as though she was suspended in the air herself.

  Drake ran a hand through his hair, wondering if he should go to her or not. There was something about this woman that called to him, that reached beyond the wall he had carefully erected and into his heart.

  He had no wish for her there, but it didn’t seem like his heart cared what his mind preferred anymore.

  He paused once more in the doorway. He had a choice. He could turn around, return to the billiards room, and allow her some time alone. Or he could enter into the night and join her, putting himself at risk to be caught by the spell she didn’t even know she was weaving.

  His feet decided for him as he stepped out into the night.

  Madeline knew he was there.

  She had sensed him the moment he opened the garden doors behind her, knew he was standing there on the step, yet to enter into the night with her.

  She closed her eyes as she waited. Waited for him to realize this was foolish, that he shouldn’t be out here with her, that he should turn around and go back into the house with the others, to rejoin the billiards game and forget about her.

  Then she heard his shoe scuff the dirt behind her, and her heart leaped even as her mind cried no.

  “It’s a beautiful night.”

  His words, soft and low, thrummed through her. He was so close, just a step away.

  “It is,” she said, her words breathy, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest.

  She was aware now that this was more than just a conversation in which he would ensure that she was well. He was not out here to check on her. He was out here to meet with her, to greet her, to be with her.

  Though in what sense, she was not entirely sure.

  “You’ll miss your turn,” she noted, finally turning around to look up at him.

  The moon reflected off the planes of his face, leaving his eyes dark and hidden from her, frustrating her with the inability to read his emotions.

  “That’s all right,” he said with a small shrug. “They probably prefer that I do n
ot return and take all of their money once more.”

  “If only our couples’ game had been for money, we could have won ourselves a prize.”

  “What would you have done with it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe…”

  “Yes?”

  “Maybe I would have used it to go see the sculpting mastery of the ancient Greeks,” she said, ducking her head. “I admire them. I’ve tried to review paintings, to copy their pre-eminence in my own work, but I can’t quite seem to get it right.”

  “Your work?” he said, taking a seat beside her, and she shivered from where their thighs touched. “Do you mean with the stone?”

  She nodded. “Most of our stone is used for statues and other edifices. I first became interested in the business when I would accompany my father to Castleton Stone and he would let me go into the factory and work with the clay to create sculptures of my own. It turned out that I had something of an aptitude for it.”

  Knowing her, she was being modest.

  “Do you still sculpt?” he asked, and she shrugged.

  “Now and then, when I find the time,” she said.

  “You should find the time,” he insisted. “And you should see your statues.”

  “I will,” she said with a nod. “One day.”

  He was silent for a moment, before he reached over and picked up one of her hands. He began to tug at the end of each of the fingers of her glove, until he slipped it right off. He turned her bare hand over within his, as if by examining it he could see just how she managed to sculpt.

  “Your hands are beautiful,” he said, to which she emitted a half-laugh, half-snort.

  “My hands are plain. Ordinary.”

  “Nothing about you is ordinary.”

  “How can you say that, when you have likely met more interesting people than anyone else I have ever been acquainted with?”

  “That is exactly why,” he said. “I have met many people, you are right. And yet, you are the only one from whom I cannot keep away. Why is that?”